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The last week was a character study in the soap opera that is my family.

It started off with a call from home late at night. Dad was suffering from severe acute-onset abdominal pain and blood while passing urine. Geting the history done, I decided it was a case of renal stones. Naturally, I adviced him to consult a nephrologist over there.

The next morning, the scans and tests revealed that indeed there were a couple of stones which would require surgical intervention. A tentative date for the coming Tuesday was set. And then, the 'Radhakrishnanisms' began.

I played true to my nature. I'm known for springing surprises on people. Impulsive by nature, my decisions are often made on the spur of the moment. It's often worth it when it works to see the happiness on people's face, though when it flops, it looks downright dumb ( waiting in the rain for hours at end to surprise a girl I liked at her tuition centre... only to find out she'd bunked for a movie that day. Sigh, you kids are so lucky to have mobile phones and keep in touch these days, I swear !!! ) I didn't inform my parents - borrowed cash, just went an' got a ticket for home for Sunday, cashed in my holidays for the first half of the year ( that's 7 days, including Sunday, mind you. ) After all, what's the point of holidays if you ain't gonna use it when it matters most, right ?

Mom played true to her nature. She searched her big book of prayers and found the "prayer for health in acute illness" mantra ( I don't know if it was more specific like the "prayer for reduction of left ureteric calculi to be heard by Lord Narayana while he's lying atop the 5 headed snake Shesha." ). Anyway, she went earnestly at it. At least, she followed one thing I said and started giving my dad lots of fluids. ( Flush that skanky pebble, Bisleri !! I know you can do it. )

Dad played true to his nature. He called up all his friends for alternative therapies. Being a doc, it's highly embarrassing when your parents prefer to try anything except your brand of medicine, you know. Seriously, how would Bill Gates feel if his dad used Linux.. ouch, kick in the cojones !!! It's a goddamn wonder I'm not into therapy (... yet. )

Anyway, I was packed by Saturday morning. I had 24 hours duty that day which meant I'd have to pray nothing came at 7 am the next morning as I rushed across Pune to Mumbai to catch my flight. Holi would be with those gorgeous Deccan Air air hostesses ( it's not like I'm getting any colour inside an operation theatre anyway .) so there was something to look forward to in mid-air atleast.

Finally, God played true to his/ her nature. Saturday morning, while I'm at work, mom calls. "The prayers worked. His pain has gone. No need for an operation." I went like "Ummm.. perhaps we should do another scan before deciding that. It could get worse if we delay it for later." "No, no. It's gone altogether. See, the power of praying.. I knew it would reduce. " blah blah... It was two deaf people talking to each other. I wasn't convincing her, she wasn't convincing me.

I called up Dad. "It's ok, son. I've been taking this Ayurvedic medicine. That's how it reduced.""How long have you been taking it ?""2 days.""Sigh.. Acha, it takes months for ayurvedic drugs to act.""Well, this one worked fast. Must be a new drug." ( Funny, considering that ayurvedic drugs were supposed to be all about 'OLDEN time' drugs. What is this - the "DJ Aqeel Ayurvedic remix" drug ?? )"Don't worry son. I'm going to Kuthuparamba this Sunday to meet a doctor there.""Thank God. Urologist ?""No, he actually has this mystical power. He makes a concoction that's sure to work in 3 days flat. It's his talent. 100 % guarantee."".... "

Conclusion ? The operation is cancelled, of course. Dad has probably got his magic potion by now, though to be fair, the pain has gone suggesting the stone has too. I've cancelled my trip home ( which you guys know about, but my parents don't.. it's better that way ) and as for, Holi, the festival of colours.. I saw red all night with the peculiar shade of blood and guts carrying me through the hours till I got to sleep at 6 am the next morning due to an interesting combination of emergencies. This was probably meant to be a lesson in the "don't count your chickens before they hatch/ look before you leap" genre, but you know what - that's a lesson this old dog just doesn't learn.After all, unpredicability's my stereotype, right ?

P.S. In case you're wondering why my laptop features in this post... well, I got a few messages demanding/threatening(?!) /asking what I named her.Well, I've given it a lot of thought and after rejecting Consuela Vineta, Chiquitita & BananaHammock, I finally decided to go with Swmnbn .No, it's not Swedish.. it's just short for She Who Must Not Be Named.What do you mean, copyright infringement ?

I attended the Pune blogger's meet, hosted by Indiblogger and backed by Microsoft, held this Saturday at ( Duh !! ) Pune. To be frank, I only came across it the night before when Preeti messaged me informing that such an event existed. After a lot of should I - shouldn't I, can I- can't I, I finally found the time after a busy baby-delivering night to register via my mob's gutterbrand net connection at 1 am in the morning.

For me, this was a first time. I've never attended a meeting like this ( religious cults don't count, right ? ) and I was pretty nervous. I shouldn't have been. Because once inside the Symbiosis Centre for Distance Learning campus, I realised this wasn't gonna be a tie and suit affair. It was all about being yourself.

Being yourself... isn't that what blogs are all about, after all ?After a lovely intro by Vineeth, who had taken the initiative to host the event in Pune, the Indiblogger creators ( Renee, Anoop and Anwin - the 3 hunks in the pic ) explained how the concept of Indibloggers was created and their aims and goals.We were all then invited onstage to showcase and talk a bit on our blogs.. luckily, there were no rotten tomatoes or eggs being sold outside, so I escaped with a typically crappy explanation of my blog ( ummm.. I write better than I orate.. seriously, I do. ) But I got to know quite a few talented Pune bloggers (Prakash Dubey, Karamveer ) from their intros.. funnily enough, I've even read quite a few of their blogs earlier ( Aparajita, Rajeev Rajan ) but had never got back to them in the sea of blogging and work ( oops.. sorry guys and gals ). Karamveer had our eyes popping out with his stats ( 200 sites, February earnings from blog - $ 55k, sold hindilyrics.com last month/year for Rs18 lakh ). I'm still working out a scheme in my head on how to convince him that I could work as a full time anaesthetist for .. umm, his sites ? Hmmm... Yes, I know, I need to work on a different angle to sell myself, huh ? Maybe begging and grovelling at his feet / holding "Pick me, KV" placards outside his window would be a better idea.. that last plan depends on whether he has armed guards and dobermen inside his house or not.

I also finally met Preeti who, like her blog, is a gem of a human being and a deserved blog-celeb. Uncharacteristically shy to come onstage to talk of her blog, when she was eventually goaded on, she just had to start with "Hi, I'm amotheroftwo..." Preeti, if you could hear the "hey, that's her" / "Woah, that's her"/ "Wow"/ "cool" that pervaded the atmosphere in that room, you'd know the term "celeb-blog" fits you like a tee.

Dinner at 6pm was unlimited pizzas and Coke ( thank you Microsoft... umm, is this coming out of my next Vista Premium bill ?" ). Everyone really loosened up and chatted freely with each other... I found out there are actually people who've read my blog ( and all this time, I just thought it was me refreshing my page 23,700 times in 2 years..) But seriously everyone, I'd appreciate it if all you hunks and babes would comment when you stop by, anything, just so that I know you've been to my site.

Anyway, an impromptu skit on blogging( they gave me a no speaking part - I swear, these guys are smart ) and a demonstration of LiveWriter by Sandhya followed.The vote of thanks, too early by far, followed and we all parted, happy to have been there, sad to leave.Thank you Vineeth, Indiblogger team & Sandhya( Microsoft ) for this fun event, for taking the trouble, for hosting it brilliantly... and for finally giving me the chance to say this..."I came, I saw , I got the T-shirt !!!!"

Afterlude :This is in no way related to the above event... just something I wanted to share. I and my co-docs were having our dinner later that night ( Yes, I had dinner EVEN after mooching all that pizza.. why do you think I asked for the XL t-shirt, guys ). A new place near my hospital, it was quite fancy by my locality standards ( valet parking out here ? Woah.. we used to be lucky to have no-fly soups ). I was still high from my experience at the meet, and my co-partner was celebrating one year in Pune ( by God, I've finished one year myself.. unbelievable. To think, I thought Godyears would die with my arrival here and the workload. ) Anyway, there we were, enjoying the good life, when the phone rang. It was from the hospital. My co-doc picked it up and spoke. It was from his roommate, a paediatrician-to-be. After speaking, he cut the line and told us " That was N. He called to ask that since we were eating at a restaurant, could he have my tiffin ?"I asked "Why, isn't one tiffin enough for him ? Where does it all go ? He's as thin as a stick insect !!""It isn't for him. There's a man in the paediatric ward whose child died today of heart failure. He hasn't eaten anything since 24 hours. N just wanted to give him something to eat."

Sometimes you need to follow your heart. I've spoken earlier on the need to be impersonal while being a doc, but you know what... this is the kind of person I want to be. God willing ( are you listening up there, lazybones ), some day I will be.

It took a timely comment from Lemonade to remind me that I had a pending article left... the one on my laptop. Of course, if I wrote on that alone, it'd be a tremendously short post so I figured I'd just relax and post "one without the works" this time around.. a.k.a. just talk instead of aiming for stressing a point in a blogpost.

Well, first things first, Here she is for the first time on an international blogsite... my Dell. She's cute, fast and extremely sleek. The Dell service guy who came to 'tune her up' was pleasantly surprised at how fast she was handling Vista.. he wasn't used to a 2 GB RAM laptop.. wimp. Though I must say, I regret not having ordered the bluetooth cordless mouse and the 250 gb hard drive ( I was saving cash to invest in mutual funds, God help me, I've grown old !!! ). Anyway, for all you disbelievers, see, even I'm environment friendly, hell, my damn laptop is green !!! And SPRING GREEN does look good on a laptop... here are pics.. and yes, that is Riya Sen adorning my wall. She's pocket size, she's Bong and by God, she's Aquarian.. I swear, it's true love. Now, if only I could get my photos through to her, we could have our "happily ever after".

P.S. The first guy/ gal/ it who comments on my bedsheets will have a thousand termites infesting his/ her/ it's "no-sunshine receiving" areas.

Anyway, the first movie I saw in it was SAW IV.. You guys by now know I don't go by conventions and popular opinions. Well, let me add to that list. It is my humble belief that given a war of movie villians, Jigsaw ( from SAW ) would have popular 'villian of the century' Hannibal Lecter pissing in his snuggies ( you did know he wore snuggies, didn't you, Clarice ? ) while wearing a pink 40 D bra. I mean, by God, is there anyone even half as well planned as that old geezer. After Part 3, I was sure that the SAW series was over.. and he still managed to spook me with SAW 4.. kudos to that director for the tremendous way he linked it all back up. I swear, the guy's almost half as good as I am. ( and that's a big compliment coming from me, eh ? ) Screw gore, screw tacky sets... if you want a mind spook, sit and watch the SAW series back to back. Trust me, if you're even half like me, you'll be praying there were a few more like him.. then the world would really be a much better place with people being too scared to try anything nasty.. beware, if God don't getcha, Jigsaw will. And that lovely background tune whenever a twist is revealed..wow.

Did you know there was a football tournament in my university campus last week ? Big deal, you say. It was actually. Well, if Shah Rukh Khan came running down after the Filmfare awards just for this, it has to be. To add flavour to the tournament matches, there was a charity match.. where the footballers were Salman Khan, Ranbir Kapoor, Govinda, Sohail Khan, Ashish Chaudhary, Kunal Khenu & Shreyas Talpade. Apparently, Ranbir was the star on the field with four goals, while ( as usual ) Salman won the honours off the field, mingling with the mentally handicapped. Where was I in all this ? I was where I always am at such times.. 300 metres and 3 floors above the soccer ground, in an operation theatre, straining with my ears to the wall to hear atleast some part of the commentary ( Would it be a crime to atleast have glass panes in an operation theatre !!?! A little light, a little warmth, a little glimpse of Katrina... ) Sigh... anyway, yesterday ( 8.3.8 - Happy Women's day, Y'all ) was the finals and the chief guests were Nana Patekar and John Abraham from the filmi world, a couple of chief justices, the CEO of Everton ( wow, that's medium-huge ).. anyway, while I'm sure the news channels will give you glimpses of their appearances, there are a few tidbits I'd like to add personally. You see, it struck me as odd first that noone else saw what I did.. or rather heard what I did.. you see, as the chief guests were being felicitated, the background tune for all of them was the same - the entry tune of the villian ( Darth Vader ) of Star Wars. What were they trying to imply ?

Personal life ? Well, I (re)learnt what I already knew about myself.. that I will never learn. There I am, jumping to protect what I imagine/see as a young pure flower and turns out... well.. let's see.. that not only doesn't the flower need any protecting, but infact, it ain't no flower but is a full grown mango tree. I keep thinking I've reinvented myself, but in the end, it's always the same Achilles heel.. I keep thinking I need to protect whoever calls me a friend. I end up going out of my way, sleepless nights, outlandish ideas and outrageous uncalled-for expressions of emotions, all for what ? The belief that what goes around will come around. Well, the only thing that's come around after all these years is the fat from all that post depressive gulab jamun eating ( when in Pune, do as the Puneites... ) When will I learn that every girl I meet doesn't need my protection and that there really are a few out there who are surviving without my care and show of affection ?!

Like lil' Nicole Ritchie, for instance. There she is, a new mom ( well, duh !! Of course, she's not married. What kinda dumb question was that ? ) and she had this lovely quote I picked up in my morning online mobile news.. Apparently, she's upset, because post delivery, she's developed breasts and now has to wear a bra !! She claims that earlier she could wear see through shirts and walk around and not feel uncomfortable as she had 'tiny tots'. But now that she's 'grown', it's annoying and she can't wear see through shirts anymore. Pray why this sudden discomfort ? Pray why this sudden modesty ? Pray why am I still surprised at her antics ? Oh yeah, and to add cream to this comedy cake, Paris, her ex best friend is now dating "Nicole's present boyfriend's twin brother" apparently. I mean, seriously, I have to ask - Are their antics made up, like the fights on WWe ? And don't celebs get STDs or is that just a word used by parents to keep Indian girls from being "promiscuous" ? Just wondering...

Blogs. Well, I came across The Compulsive Confessor again after a long period. To call her a compulsive confessor is an understatement, as she leaves little to the imagination. Extremely fun reading, she's been on a news channel discussion panel regarding the role of blogs recently. Impressive ? Well, not as impressive as her blog counter which is presently running at 6 lakh plus ( wheeeeze !! Gasp !! Where's my inhaler ? ). The amazing thing is, I believe her. Boy, still, that's a staggering number, huh ?

That's it for now. Gotta go. My laptop's calling. She has a few umm.. dynamic anatomically appropriate motion picture sequences to reveal to me.

“Don’t you read the papers.. It’s all rape, murder, bloodshed.. Bad defeating good everyday in every way. Besides, we’ve started creating clones, we’re unearthing new galaxies and systems… look at you and me. We can identify diseases based on molecular defects even before the child is born. I’m telling you it’s all about human beings evolving.. There isn’t a divine element in all this. ”I stared at him and the old man sitting behind him, visible from the periphery of my eye.“How can you say that ?” I asked.“Dude. I’m an atheist. I don’t believe in God.” he replied.I smiled. Cheeky rascal.“Look, we all insult and blame God , in much the same way we insult Gandhi, but it’s not like God doesn’t exist. It’s just a matter of what you imagine him to be and how please you are with his work.”

The look told me I wasn’t getting through to him. He took up the newspaper on the bed and tossed it to me. “Show me the work of God.”I looked at the last page, which was lying face up.“Well, I can see the wonder of God right here.” I said, pointing out Amisha’s two finer assets.He glared at me.. okay, not in the mood for comedy apparently. ( What is it with atheists that make them behave like religious fanatics when we question their non-acknowledgement of God ? )“Look, you can’t just toss me an entertainment supplement page and expect me to find God for you. The least you can do is give me the main paper.. like say, that one over there.” I said, pointing to the previous day’s paper.The old man’s smile escaped the eyes of my friend. He knew I had read the paper. He knew what I was upto. As usual.My friend gave me the paper.“You sure I can’t convince you that atleast Gemma Atkinson’s assets are divine ?” I tried, showing him the photo.“Bet you they’re Silicon implants a.k.a. the work of a doctor.”“Hmmm…” I pretended as I glanced through the pages, slowing inching towards my destination.“Let’s see.. Hayden called Bhajji an obnoxious weed and he didn’t react.. No? Not a miracle for you ? Ok, Prince Harry’s been in Afghanistan for 2 montths at the battlefront and noone knew.. wow..one hour massages by discrete bollywood type english speaking decent women.. sounds like heaven to me. Call Mariya.”“Look. Give up, man. There’s nothing in there…”“Wait.” I said.“Now what ?”“Read this” , I said handing him the article which had caught my imagination the first time I’d heard about it.He read silently.

It was an article of a pregnant woman on board a train late at night. She went to the bathroom and while using it, went into labour. With the door locked, she fell unconscious and delivered in the bathroom. The newborn, placenta et al, fell through the commode of the running train and onto the tracks. It would be another 30 minutes before her co passengers would come to seek her and find her unconscious in the bathroom, bleeding and with no child.In those 30 minutes, 2 more trains passed over those rails.4 hours later, a passerby heard a baby’s weak cries as he passed the tracks. He would find the child, blue from the biting morning chill… but alive.He took the child to the NICU ( neonatal ICU ) where the child was resuscitated. By the time the story reached the papers, the child’s condition was declared ‘stable.’ And of course, mother and child were reunited.

My friend looked at me.“Don’t even start.” I said. “You and I have seen enough newborns die of far less than what this child suffered. It fell off a moving train, was run over by 2 trains, height notwithstanding, faced the extreme cold which is incompatible with life for any newborn and is declared ‘stable.’ Nothing less.. stable, man.”“As you said, the train’s lowest points were to high to touch the child so that hardly matters. The rest.. well, the kid was lucky, that’s all.”"And the cold ? No newborn has the ability to make up for extremes of temperature.""Just lucky, I guess."“If you don’t see the miracle in this story, then there’s really no point in talking further… there is no science that would allow that kid to survive what it did and you damn well know that.”“That’s one incident.. one incident in a whole paper. The rest is all about minors getting raped, killed etc.”“Sometimes one incident is enough to make you believe. ” I rallied.“Yes, and a thousand to disbelieve in him, right ? Whatever, man.” He said as he got up to leave my room. Behind him, I could see the old man shuffling to his feet too, behind him. "I'll see you later." I said.The doc left first, the scoff in his lips telling me I’d failed to convince him. I turned back to the old man as he too moved towards the door.“How do you manage it ?” I asked.He smiled. “Manage what ?”“Day in and day out, you listen to us insult you, tease you and bitch about you. After all you’ve done , how do you remain cheerful seeing so many people remaining atheists, so many people turning into atheists before your eyes, even as you continue to perform pure miracles ? Basically, how do you not feel like hurling down lightning bolts when you see people like him putting you down ?”The smile never left his face as he continued. I figured he hadn’t heard me ( wouldn’t be the first time ), but as he reached the door, he turned back and cocked his eyebrow.“ Dude. I’m God. I don’t believe in atheists.” He said as left the room.I smiled. Cheeky rascal.